Monday morning, sun is shining bright!
Kids are painting with highly stainable colors (why?!?!) and just about to fight.
Backpacks are ready, the camp bus is on its way!
Yes, the kids are still in their underwear, for this I will pay.
First cup of coffee, many more to come,
Without the caffeine, I act completely (not just a little) dumb.
Getting ready for a day in the car, so many miles on the odometer I’ve put,
That I’ve seriously caused tendonitis in my right driving foot.
Crawling on the back roads, avoiding route 27,
No cell service anywhere; I feel like I’m 11.
Crazy enough, I’m starting to miss the pesky Ubers and cabs,
Out here I’m only surrounded by Pomeranians and Labs.
Can’t get any work done, everyone’s in vacation mode,
I long for productivity while tennis rackets into the car I load.
How can I complain? I am soooooo lucky!
Then why do I wake up and feel quite so mucky?
Kids demand screen time, “the all new Noggin” on my phone,
When I finally stop their playing, there’s no “thank you,” only a moan.
Sand is in places I can’t mention and all over the floors,
The kids seem to have forgotten that cleaning up is part of their chores.
Watching them frolic in the ocean or pool, shouldn’t it be wonderful?!
But I’m filled with anxiety. Will they drown? Out of the water will I soon pull?
Now there’s paint everywhere, the kids are running naked in the lawn,
While I try to spend two minutes writing this poem just after dawn.
I haven’t written my novel the way I had planned,
Instead, pretend ice cream stands on the jungle gym I’ve manned.
I’ve gained 10 pounds, food from Round Swamp isn’t exactly healthy,
Or maybe it’s because I’m mainlining chocolate caramel balls on line with the wealthy.
“Make me breakfast!” my older daughter demands. “The bus is coming soon!”
I miss my husband, an amazing cook, out in LA for Morning Moon.
Stuffed animals everywhere, urgent searches for that one dress-clad poodle,
Later, grocery shopping at Citarella, tonight can I really feed them another noodle?!
Applying sun lotion, brushing tangles out of hair,
Flushing toilets long forgotten, washing sippy cups in my lair.
I’ve kind of had I enough, can I really admit that?
Do I long for city traffic and school stress? Am I as crazy as a bat?
All year long, I count down to summer and now here it is,
So why do I feel frustrated and only want to focus on my biz?
I can’t even read all the books in my TBR pile,
Instead I’m dealing with the pool guy and the cracking tile.
I know, I know, woe is me, I’m the Hamptons — out east!!!!
But the grass is always greener. I swear, I’ve turned into a beast.
Oh God, now there’s a dead mouse in the pool, I can’t make this s — t up,
Two more months and I will flip, overfloweth is my cup.
Does anyone relate? Or am I alone in summer’s issues,
Crying in the bathroom in my swimsuit, never enough tissues.
Okay, okay, no more time to write, I got my 10 minutes in,
I’m off to cook egg and cheeses for my whining kin.
Good luck, fellow mamas, we’re all in this together,
So go off, drive, cook, wash, and soak up the beautiful weather.
But I know the real story and how we really feel,
No season is “vacation,” we’re moms. That’s the deal!